Losing
by SerpentineShadows
Summary: A year before the procedure, she was eager. 364 days, 23 hours, and 59 seconds later, she's not so sure.
1. Chapter 1

A year until the procedure. (_I can't wait._)

Annabeth walked around Manhattan, openly admiring the architecture. Even after seventeen years, the buildings were still amazing to look at. Deep within her heart, she would admit that the buildings were all relatively the same and that she would've been delighted to observe architecture from the past and around the world. But these were dangerous thoughts—a deadly disease that would snake its way into her heart and mind, just like _amor deliria nervosa_.

Truthfully, Annabeth would have liked to get the procedure done with already. Not having the three-pronged scar on her neck made her feel inferior to everyone else. Because her biological mother had been a sympathizer and a deserter, almost everyone at school thought she would turn out the same way. The hushed whispers behind her back and the "sneaky" glances infuriated her, but she couldn't do anything about it. Once she underwent the procedure, though, everything would be better. Being cured meant it was highly unlikely that she would turn out like her mother. Her classmates would treat her nicer, not that she'd care after the doctors administered the cure._  
_

Annabeth, once shaken from her thoughts, soon realized she was standing on the side of a street and facing the East River. She remembered her mother bringing her to see the river many times, saying that the river was free. Her mother had said that it reached all the way into the Wilds, where it was more beautiful (she had implied that the river looked "cleaner" when it was away from human pollution).

Annabeth berated herself for not realizing the sympathies within her mother sooner. She would've been brought to justice, and Annabeth would've been seen as a hero, not a disgrace. (Inside, part of her was extremely glad that her mother had managed to escape. Someday, she might even try escaping to meet her mother out there in the Wilds, in that place she called "Long Island Sound." Maybe they would, but it was only maybe because those were _bad thoughts_—the reason why everyone looked down on her.)

"Nice view, isn't it? But I think it'd look nicer...out there."

The _male_ voice whispered the last part quietly. Annabeth looked around her frantically. If anyone heard that, she could be thrown into the Crypts along with that stranger. The black-haired stranger with sea-green eyes, a crooked, mischievous smile, and no tell-tale three-pronged scar.

"What are you saying?" she demanded because his words were achingly familiar and he could be a sympathizer._  
_

"Nothing," he replied too quickly, the casual smile becoming more polite and controlled. "Hey, my name's Percy Jackson. Nice to meet you."

He held out his hand in greeting.

Annabeth's eyes remained on his unscarred neck. "Annabeth Chase," she responded after a while, but she still made no move to shake his hand.

Sighing, the uncured boy reached for her hand. His touch was warm and soothing. Butterflies flitted around in her stomach, and Annabeth prayed she wasn't blushing. She had never touched a boy before, not even her relatives (and the adults didn't count). He bobbed her hand up and down before letting it go.

"Again, nice meeting you, Annabeth. See you around."

* * *

A month until the procedure. (_Time is running out._)

She was sitting in a park, reading one of her favorite books, when that boy—Percy Jackson—sat down on the same bench. A large gap separated the two of them, which made sense, seeing as they were both uncured. He had obviously been actively searching for her over the past eleven months (not that she was counting). She had seen him at least a hundred times, if not more, in the time they had known each other.

Why, exactly, Percy had chosen to follow her and annoy her, Annabeth didn't know. What she did know was that Percy had heard the rumors of her mother. Even that repulsing fact had not deterred Percy. Annabeth wondered if that was one of the effects of _amor deliria nervosa_. If it was, why was she letting him do this? She should've reported him as soon as she had met him.

Annabeth looked up from her book and saw Percy staring off into space. She frowned, knowing that Percy had definitely been staring at her earlier. Annabeth looked back down at her book and read the same sentence fifteen times before she couldn't take it anymore. The atmosphere was too tense and awkward.

As she marched out of the park and toward home, Annabeth's thoughts drifted toward the upcoming procedure. Soon, all those rumors would disappear. Soon, she'd receive a pair and maybe Percy would finally leave her alone. Soon, everything she'd ever wanted would come true (but not the dreams she truly wanted to realize).

_Amor deliria nervosa_ was slowly inching its way into her heart, consuming her being. Annabeth knew that because she had checked the symptoms almost obsessively. Gradually, over the past few months, Annabeth had begun to show some of the symptoms around Percy. She desperately hoped that the cure would cut off the disease in its early stages (but only outwardly; inside, she relished the feeling growing within her heart).

* * *

A week until the procedure. (_I hope it never comes._)_  
_

She saw Percy in one of Manhattan's many alleys. Just a few days ago, she had told him to meet her. Now, seeing him waiting for her, thoughts of backing out surfaced. Meeting Percy was illegal anyway, so leaving him was perfectly reasonable. But looking at the concerned expression on his face with each passing second (she was late), Annabeth knew she wouldn't be able to turn away.

Annabeth took a deep breath and stepped out of her hiding place. The moment Percy saw her, his eyes lit up. The despondent look in his green eyes vanished, and she admired how handsome he looked while internally blushing.

"I have some things to tell you," she said, the words rushing out before she could turn back. "First, you know about my mother, right? She tarnished my reputation. I can't afford to do that with you. My procedure is also coming up. This"—she gestured wildly with her hands, trying hard to will the tears away—"_thing_ we have between us. It's over, okay?"

The heartbroken expression on Percy's face was almost enough for her to start crying, but she was stronger than that.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"I can't _love_ you," she whispered, wincing at the word "love." Percy's flinch made her want to take her words back, but this had to be done. "I don't want to be seen as a sympathizer, a resister, or anything else. I don't want to be infected."

Percy silently pleaded her to take back what she said. Annabeth closed her eyes and turned away. Seconds of silence stretched into minutes. Finally, Percy walked up to her. As he pressed a kiss to her lips, she opened her eyes. He swiftly stepped away, a blank expression smoothing over his gentle (and hurt) one. Then, he disappeared.

Annabeth had a feeling that would be their first and only kiss.

* * *

A day until the procedure. (_I wish you were here._)

At the dinner table, Annabeth remained as quiet as she usually was. She was the same obedient daughter she had always been. Prideful, smart, and logical—those were the traits that described her. She was not weak enough to be _infected_. It was simply a phase where her thoughts were distorted: a phase that would end tomorrow.

As she methodically washed the dishes, Annabeth thought back to a week ago. That was the last time she had seen Percy. Her chest hurt when she pictured the hurt expression on his face. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. Annabeth disliked the feeling and hoped it would end soon (whether it be through seeing Percy's smile again or enduring the procedure).

Though the logical part of her preferred the cure, the more emotional part wanted to see Percy again. She was torn between the two halves, but the logical side smothered the emotional one. Her pride interfered with her other, stronger feelings. Annabeth had endured years of bullying because of her mother; she would not let one crush topple the reputation she had built for herself.

Honestly, Annabeth wished she wasn't so prideful.

* * *

An hour until the procedure. (_Why didn't I tell you..._)

Annabeth's thoughts filled with Percy. Even though he wasn't there, he still managed to worm his way into her mind. She wanted to apologize for being so harsh; she wanted to run away with him; she wanted to see him one last time; she wanted so much, but she had so little time.

Besides, these wishes were selfish and they would never come true.

Annabeth had gotten the results of her evaluation and her pair already. She was sitting around waiting for her procedure.

No matter how much she wanted to, there was no turning back.

* * *

A minute until the procedure. (_that I loved you?_)

Glaring lights flashed above Annabeth. Laying down on the bed with the doctors standing over her made her feel vulnerable, but she was finally getting what she had wished for. No matter how much she regretted it, there was no more turning back.

The cure would be administered, and Annabeth would become blank, just like everyone else, just like she had always dreamed of.

* * *

A second until the procedure. (_I'll miss you._)

Concentrated expressions adorned the surgeons' faces. One held a knife in his hand. Her head was being held, and she felt woozy.

The knife was raised and lowered, meant to cut efficiently.

Annabeth's mind remained blank except for one thought: _I love you, Percy._

She whispered the words that conveyed her feelings only when those feelings were being taken away.

* * *

**A/N:** The result of finishing _Delirium_ and being restless. It is more than a bit rushed and inaccurate since I'm only on the 100-somethingth page of _Pandemonium._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I never planned to write more of this, but here it is. It's dedicated to **I Live on a Phantom Planet** for both the review/favorite and **percabethbooklion** for the favorite. And apologies for any consistencies 'cause I've read _Pandemonium_, but that was a while ago. (And I have characterization problems.)

* * *

(The first time he saw her, _she slipped by him._)

A commotion sounded from Percy's left. Curious, he hurried over to the source of the noise. Almost immediately, the rage lurking under his calm demeanor surfaced. Five girls surrounded a blonde girl, taunting her. The blonde glared at her bullies, stormy gray eyes flashing. Her eyes met Percy's for a moment before flicking back to the girls. A scowl etched on her face, the girl pushed them aside. She ignored the jeers following her and marched past Percy, head held high, eyes full of pride.

Percy reached out for the girl, but she shied away from him. As he chased after her, she blended into the busy street and disappeared.

* * *

(When they first met, he thought, _You're beautiful._)

Percy hummed to himself as he walked along the East River. It was a habit of his to traipse around the riverside whenever he needed to think. The cool wind on his face, the wide, peaceful river, and the overall atmosphere soothed him. He could spend hours outside if only he was allowed to.

Then, he caught sight of the blonde girl staring out at the river, a slight frown on her face. He greeted her, startling the expression from her face. Her frantic eyes combed the area then landed back on him. Her expression soured again, and she glared at his neck. So she was worried because he was uncured? Percy tucked that information away.

"What are you saying?" she asked, and Percy decided her voice definitely matched her appearance: fierce, prideful, and of course, beautiful.

Evading the question, Percy chose to greet her. He held out his hand and watched, amused, as she refused to take it. Instead, the girl kept her eyes on his neck—the sign of his uncured status.

"Annabeth Chase," the girl responded after a while, still making no move to shake his hand.

Percy repeated her name in his mind. _Annabeth. Annabeth Chase_. He decided that her name, just like her voice, matched her appearance. Though he didn't know much about her yet, he was starting to like her. She was interesting. Percy grabbed her hand and shook it, noting the soft blush dusting her cheeks. She looked cute. He grinned, muttered a goodbye, and left.

* * *

(It was the first time he felt: _I can't stop thinking about you._)

The teacher scrawled on the board then slammed the chalk against it. Percy tapped the desk, mind wandering. The teacher's grating voice resounded throughout the room. Percy stared out the window, examining the bleak sky. It reminded him of that pretty girl's—Annabeth's—eyes, but her eyes were much more luminous and bright, much more beautiful. He could lose himself in those eyes. Oh, and her hair. It looked pretty and soft to the touch, and he thought about what it would feel like, his heart beating way too fast. From what he saw, she was a beautiful, prideful girl, and Percy found himself drawn to her. He'd like to meet her again and talk to her and spend time with her. Just thinking about the possibilities made his head spin. Percy thought he might be displaying symptoms of _amor deliria nervosa_, but he didn't care as long as he could see—

"Jackson," the teacher called. "Pay attention. What were we talking about?"

"Uh, I don't know?"

"I don't know, _sir_."

"You don't?" he said, grinning at the older man.

Even as the teacher stalked over to him, screaming his head off and slamming a meter stick on the desk, Percy couldn't help but smile as he thought of pretty gray eyes and soft, blonde hair.

* * *

(On their first "date," _he wished he could be closer._)

It really couldn't be considered a "date" (and Percy only knew what "date" meant because of all the time he spent trying to figure out the forbidden past; really, all he gathered was that a "date" was a romantic outing, and he didn't know if this was romantic at all), but Percy hoped it was. He slung an arm around the bench and wished that the space between him and Annabeth on the bench wasn't there. Percy could've sat next to her, but he knew from his observations that Annabeth cared about the rules a lot. She wouldn't appreciate him sitting close to her.

Percy glanced at the book she was reading. It was thick and mellowed with age but obviously well cared for. Huh, so Annabeth liked reading. He noticed the slight frown on her face and inched farther away from her, directing his gaze away. It wouldn't do for Annabeth to dislike him for sitting too close and staring too much.

He stared at the trees lining the park. The green leaves indicated that summer was approaching. And summer meant his eighteenth birthday, the procedure. Percy fidgeted. He wasn't afraid of the procedure, not really. In fact, most of the time, he forgot about it. It never really crossed his mind. Until now. Now, there was something at stake when the procedure came: his feelings for Annabeth. It'd steal away the emotions he was learning to cope with (and though they were troublesome to hide, the soft flutter of his heart and the warmth spreading through him when he saw Annabeth were worth it), and he didn't like that idea. He'd be paired up with someone, someone not Annabeth, and that was hard to imagine. No, it was impossible to imagine. And what about Annabeth? She'd get her procedure soon, too, and she'd be paired up with someone. The thought of Annabeth with someone else was worse. Percy clenched his fists. He didn't like that at all.

Percy looked back at Annabeth and was surprised to find out she was gone. His heart sunk, and he thought about leaving. But it'd seem suspicious for him to leave so soon after Annabeth had left. Percy slouched on the bench and continued to stare at the trees, wondering what exactly both of their procedures would entail.

* * *

(When she rejected him, he thought, _Why won't you..._)

Annabeth had asked him to meet her in a back-alley. Sure, it was pretty trashy and dirty, but _Annabeth had wanted to meet up with him_. Percy leaned against the wall, staring up at the sky. He was so excited. Usually, he was the one to ask Annabeth to meet him. This was special, something to be commemorated.

Anxious, Percy checked his watch. He had been at least fifteen minutes early. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. His watch still told him that Annabeth was a half-hour late now. That was odd. Annabeth liked being early, or at least on time, to appointments. Had she been caught by someone? Oh, what if, what if her guardian found out she was seeing him? Was she in trouble because of him? He was torn between feeling guilty and being concerned.

Then, a light step made his head snap up. Annabeth was here. All his previous thoughts were banished to the back of his mind. Oh, and she was blushing.

"I have some things to tell you," she mumbled, and Percy snapped to attention. Her voice was somber, serious. Had his fears been correct? God, he hoped not. "First, you know about my mother, right?" He knew vague things about her mother, like how she was a sympathizer, but he didn't get what that had to do with Annabeth. "She tarnished my reputation." Oh, so it was an issue of pride, but he still didn't get where she was going with this. "I can't afford to do that with you." Ouch, that hurt. Pride over love, huh? "My procedure is also coming up. This _thing_ we have between us. It's over, okay?"

Her words stung Percy. His heart ached, and he didn't know why Annabeth had said it. But then he saw Annabeth, her quivering lips, her watery gray eyes, and her flushed face, and stopped short. She was affected by this as much as he was.

"What do you mean?"

He couldn't let this go. At least, not without a fight.

"I can't _love _you."

Her melodic voice repeated those words over and over again. _I can't _love_ you._ Why? Why did she have to insist on ripping his heart to pieces? Why couldn't she let them be happy together, if only for a while? Percy tried to meet Annabeth's eyes, but she closed her eyes, looking resigned. _You don't have to do this_, he wanted to scream, but he didn't. He couldn't make himself yell at her.

Instead, Percy stepped forward. He cupped Annabeth's chin and kissed her. Her eyes fluttered open, shock clear in those grey depths. Percy pulled away and left. He didn't turn back. If he did, he'd beg for Annabeth to take back her words. And he couldn't do that. He couldn't jeopardize her future. He needed to respect her wishes.

* * *

(_Love me,_ he pleaded, after he'd lost her.)

Percy knew Annabeth's birthday: July 12. He'd tried to forget about her, to follow her wishes, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. Everywhere he looked, he'd see Annabeth. He needed to see her, to tell her that he loved her. Did he seriously leave without telling her that? He cursed his stupidity.

Percy ran outside, his mother calling after him. Nothing but Annabeth mattered, not anymore.

He pushed past people, racing to the building where the procedure was done.

He charged past the security guards, who yelled and chased after him.

He ran and ran, adrenaline pumping through his veins, searching for Annabeth.

He burst into room after room, coming up empty each time.

Then, he found her. The doctors stood over her. They were going to take her away from him. He couldn't let that happen.

He reached out, struggling as the guards restrained him. He couldn't let Annabeth leave, not without saying "I love you" first.

He kicked at the guards, trying to escape, but they were stronger. He was held fast as one of the doctors came over and stabbed him in the arm with a needle. He grew drowsy, falling limp in the guard's arms. One last thought raced through his mind as they took him away: _I love you, Annabeth._


End file.
